Haverville
by ITILY
Summary: Mello had a plan, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life, and that was to get the hell out of Haverville, the town which had treated him like a vermin all his life, but what happens when a new kid walks into town, and the troubles which he thought had finally subsided are back to haunt him again? MXN, rated M just in case, please R&R.
1. The Lumberjack's Son

**The Lumberjack's Son**

Green…there was none other with such a unique scent, was what Mello found himself thinking as he stood before a particularly large conical tree, inhaling the deep scent of mud and mist. It was a scent he was accustomed to, being the son of a lumberjack. Son of a lumberjack, the lumberjack's son, that was him, or at least who he used to be, he thought bitterly. Closing his eyes, he sighed, breathing in deeply, filling his lungs, before letting all the air slipped out of him.

It was great to be in the woods again, to feel the humid, chilly air moistening his skin, and hear the sounds of life echoing in the trees, and of course, the best of all, the smell of timber. With his eyes closed, he could still hear in his mind the sound of wood splitting in two somewhere in the distance, the sound of mud splashing and leaves crunching under the weight of a large, strong man and if he just focused a little more, he'd catch a glimpse of the gentle brown eyes that always looked back at him to make sure his little boy was following behind.

"You alright there, Mihael?" the scruffy man in his plaid shirt and soiled jeans would always ask.

"Sure pops, I got it," he said, remembering himself answering in that small boy's voice he had before puberty finally met up with him.

He let himself drift deeper into the memory as the smell of green flooded his senses, it was like seeing the light at the long end of a dark tunnel, always returning his hope and faith when he has none left, making him believe that he can go on, if just for another day.

Time left him behind as he lost himself under the shadow of the canopy, but he didn't mind, he didn't need to be anywhere else. This was the only place he wanted to be, right here with the ghost of his old man.

He traced a face in his mind, the outline of a square jaw, with a woolly beard, wrinkles under those light brown eyes and around a flat nose, curly hair tucked under a worn cap, and that ever tender smile that touches all of his features. If only he could've inherited any one of those traits, he wished regrettably. He didn't have his father's face, nor his stature, nor even his nature, but of course, that was only to be expected, considering they didn't share the same DNA. He frowned at the thought, of how nature always wins despite the many efforts he tried to change it. With piercing blue eyes, a full head of strawberry blonde hair and his small physique, there was no way nature was ever going to let him forget what he truly was-an accident. At the very least, if he could have gotten his mother's green eyes, he'd still had a chance of hiding it, the fact that he wasn't his father's son, but no, nature shows no mercy.

No, that wasn't what he came here to think about, he told himself, shifting his mind back to recollecting the better times in his life, of the days spent with his father chopping down trees with an axe and a saw, or the days searching for rare bugs for their collection, or bird watching in the early mornings, or the times they had down by the river where they fished and hunted for turkeys. He pulled them out of the recesses of his mind one by one, making sure that they didn't get buried too deep that he'd forget about them.

Finally, after hours of being alone in the same spot, he was satisfied, though still reluctant to leave and face the cold reality that awaits him. But as the lone wolf begins to howl in the distance, he knew he had no choice but to get a move on, or risk turning into dinner.

He followed the tract out of the woods, walking slowly, and focusing on the road ahead instead of the lingering sorrow which trails along with him every time he leaves his safe haven. Finding his bike waiting for him at the edge of the forest, he looked back one last time, whispering to the trees, "See you, pops."

* * *

Mello sped at full speed on the highway, the tree leaves rustling slightly as he passed by, riding straight into Haverville, a small town that wasn't even worth mentioning on the map. The town wasn't much to begin with and a few hundred years wasn't going to do much to change that. The only notable trait about it was its lumber trade, and even that wasn't something especially exceptional. It was a sleepy town on the verge of entering a comatose state, until the government decided to built the highways, so now at least every now and then, there'd be tourists, although most were accidental rather than intentional. Truth of the matter is, who'd really want to see a town with a handful of miniature shops with plaster falling off their walls, with the only source of entertainment being the supermarket at the corner of town? It wasn't funny, not even as a joke.

On top of that, the people weren't exactly all that friendly, at least not to Mello, they weren't. Nasty small town folks whose brains were so lost in the dark ages, they'd accuse anything of blasphemy. Mello hated every single one of them, the ladies whispering as they get their groceries about his mother being a sinner, about him defiling their town, or just about what happened to his old man four years ago. He hated it so much, enough to make him turn his bike around and just ride out of the town gates and never look back, but he couldn't, he had his mother to think about, plus he knew he wouldn't last very long without money and a real plan.

It was all about timing, and it wasn't time yet, he had to be patient, he told himself. There was a better way, a smarter way of doing things and it was called, "The Whammy's Student of Excellence Award." Every year for the past ten year's, Whammy's, the best of the Ivy Leagues in the country offers one seat and full paid scholarship including allowance to the top student at Penrich High School, and this year, Mello plans to claim that prize for his own. It had been his plan since it was thirteen, and now, at his last year of high school, being top of his class, he could almost feel himself breaking free from the chains that held him to the small forsaken town.

His bike rumbled to a halt in front of the supermarket. He got down, taking off his helmet and walked into the shop without bothering to check himself in the mirror, knowing that no matter what he looked like, they'd still talk about him behind his back. That's probably the reason why he started to wear leather from head to toe.

Without needing to search around, he found his way to the snack aisle, and got himself a bar of chocolate. He tore it opened with his teeth and took a bite out of it, wondering if they'd give him problems today for not paying first. He figured, since they treated him like an outlaw, he might as well act like it.

The taste of chocolate was absolutely heavenly, he smiled taking another bite, noting the lady who was staring at him at the end of the aisle. When he turned, she quickly scurried away, her trolley moving noisily, and not the least bit discreetly.

Sighing, he grabbed two more chocolate bars, and decided to walk around in the mall, trying to buy some time before he had to go home and explain what happened to his face. He strolled leisurely, and found himself at an aisle he hadn't visited in years. He was about to walk pass it until he saw a little boy standing between the two shelves, looking intently at something.

Usually he tried to avoid any sort of contact with the other town folks, but he had never seen that boy before, and he was pretty sure he knew everyone in town, it was just one of those 'must' that came along with living in Haverville. He took some time to studied the boy a little longer. Pale, he concluded, the boy was pale, and…small…and he was glowing white under the light. He looked so surreal somehow, and Mello suddenly felt a need to confirm whether he was real or not.

Taking a few steps forward, he came next to the boy, who was still staring intently in front of him, not reacting to his presence in any way, which was odd considering how striking his clothing was. Typically, whenever kids saw him, they'd run away, or at least flinch. He bent down and followed the boy's gaze to a robot toy standing in a box on the shelf in front of them.

"Do you like that?" he found himself inquiring unconsciously.

The boy didn't respond but kept his eyes on the toy, his face was unreadable. Mello found it a little creepy, to be honest, but he wasn't about to leave the boy alone just yet. Slowly, he took the toy from the shelf and was glad to see that the child's eyes moved with his hand.

"Do you want this?" he asked, trying to offer a friendly smile.

The boy stared up him with his dark grey eyes and Mello couldn't help himself from gasping, the boy, or maybe it was a girl, he wasn't sure, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Mello blushed, suddenly nervous, or maybe it was excitement, it was hard to tell, all he knew was that there was adrenaline pulsing through his veins suddenly. Get a grip, she's just a baby! Some part of his brain seemed to yell at him, for which he was grateful for. Slapping a smile back on his face, he tried his best to act like his normal self.

"Where are your parents?" the blonde questioned, handing the toy over to the girl.

A pained look flickered in the child's eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by Mello. "What's wrong? Are you lost?" He asked quickly.

The girl simply shook her head, looking down at the floor. Silence fell between them, Mello not really knowing what to say to someone who had so little words to offer, felt completely out of place.

"Near!" someone suddenly called, causing both of them to turn. "There you are," the man in a suit sighed relief, walking over to the girl.

"You shouldn't disappear like that, it's not safe. Have you gotten what you needed? I think we've spent too much time here, it's time to go," the man who looked like a foreigner said, ushering the girl along.

"Hey wait," the blonde stopped them abruptly, "Do you know him, kid?" Mello asked skeptically, realizing that the two looked too different to be related.

"I'm a friend," the man answered, and the girl nodded in agreement. Without anything else to say, the blonde had no choice but to drop the matter and let the two walked out of the mall, still feeling worried for the kid somehow.

* * *

After walking through every aisle in the tiny supermarket thrice, Mello finally left the mall, his mind which had been occupied thinking about the little girl he met an hour ago now replaced by the same worry he had since the day started.

Riding slowly, much slower than what he was used to, he arrived home ten minutes later, jingling his keys in his hands on the front porch, watching the light coming from the living room window, knowing his mom was probably waiting for him to come home for dinner. He hoped she already had her dinner before him, though it's not very likely, since it was their tradition to eat together. Then, he hoped at least they could have dinner together first before she asked about what happened, knowing that if they fought first, it was highly unlikely that either of them would have dinner tonight. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, thinking how sad it was to waste good food, especially since it was ham roll night.

Mello walked though the front door, taking off his boots so that the mud under their soles won't stain the carpet. Silently, he peeked into the living room, finding his mother sitting on the couch, knitting away. He hesitated for a long while, wondering if he should announced that he was home, or just run up room. And then, he realized he'd just make his mom worry about where he was.

Shaking his head at himself, he finally called out to his mother, "I'm home."

"Mih-," his mother turned to face him, her smile vanishing almost instantly when she saw him, unable to finish her sentence. She got up quickly and walked over to him, holding his face, her eyes filled with worry.

"Mihael, what happened to you? Who did this?" She asked with her deep Russian accent, that never faded despite the years she had spent living in the states.

"It's nothing ma, lets just have dinner," he shrugged it off, turning to face the other way, and started heading for the dining table.

"It's not nothing…oh Mihael," the petite woman breathed, her hand on her chest, trying to contain her tears. "When is this going to stop? You promised Mihael, you said this wasn't going to happen again," her voice broke, tears running down her cheeks.

"Ma please, I'm trying but-"

"But what, Mihael? There are no buts, just stop this already!" she cried, burying her face in her hands.

"It's not my fault! They called you a-" He caught himself before the words slid off his tongue, his mother's light green teary eyes looked up at him questioning.

"What Mihael? What is it?" She became concerned, holding his hands, pleading him to tell her what was really going on, but how could he? How could he say that it was because some idiot called his mother a whore that he threw that punch? Or the fact that it was three against one? What else could he have possibly done but fight back? How could he tell her that without breaking her heart?

"It's nothing ma, believe me," he answered in defeat.

"Then why did you fight?" she shouted back, sobbing loudly.

"Ma please…" he pleaded.

His mother shook her head, hugging her cardigan close to her body. "I just don't know what to do anymore," her voice grew small, covering a hand over her mouth as she continued to cry.

"I'm sorry ma, please…" the blonde begged, her tears tugging at his heart.

"Please, just go to your room, I need some time alone," she said, turning her back to him.

He bit his lip, feeling an ache in his chest, but he knew whatever he said now was going to sound like an excuse to her, so without another word he went upstairs to his room. Closing the door, he slid down to the floor, burying his head in his hands, feeling like an utter disappointment.

* * *

So I started writing this for practice and it ended up to be a pretty long chapter...Anyways, I hope you guys like it, please R&R...


	2. PENRICH HIGH SCHOOL

**PENRICH HIGH SCHOOL**

Dark eyes shifted to the figurine lying awake on the bed next to him. The toy stared up at the ceiling, its head tilted at an angle which showed pride in itself. Perfectly sculpted from plastic, and painted a daring bright red and blue, it seemed nothing in the world could possibly outweigh it in worth. It wasn't looking at Nate per se, but the boy could feel the daunting aura his mini Optimus Prime was sending him, as if daring him not to bring him to school. It seemed to whisper, "First day of school and you're not bringing me?"

Hesitantly, Nate picked up his toy robot from where it lay on the pillow, watching it now between the palm of his hands. It was so new…too new. He stiffened at the thought, recalling all the things he had lost not long ago, which had forced him to leave London, and return to the land he once called home.

"America," he tried the words, it was a sound weighed down by dust and rust, something that should've remained forgotten. This was the boogeyman's playground, where the nightmare's had begun, and somehow he was back again, what had he been trying so hard to achieve all this time? It seemed as if all they've done was run in circles, playing a game where everyone loses.

His eyes fell to the robot once more, it was too new to hold any sentimental value, yet strangely he felt attached to it. Should he be glad or disgusted that he was letting this new fellow replace the vacancy that had opened in his affection when he lost his old toy? He couldn't decide, it was still a question that required much contemplation.

"Near, are you done? Breakfast is ready," Gevanni called from the kitchen.

In his surprise, he found himself stuffing the toy into his schoolbag. It's decided then, Optimus Prime is coming, he said to himself, zipping up his bag as he got up to head out of the room.

"Good morning," he greeted simply, entering the kitchen and taking a seat at the dining table.

Milk, and toast, he noted, were served. Without another word, he started applying jam on a piece of toast, trying not to make a face as he chokes down the dry substance. He hated toast, something mom would've known, he thought with a pang. If she were here, it'd probably be hard boiled eggs and salad.

"Morning Near, I'm sorry breakfast is so simple," the tall man gave a nervous laugh, "I haven't really had a proper breakfast for some time now myself," he grinned sheepishly, then coughed into his hand, turning serious. "Um, of course that's no excuse-"

"Thank you," Nate tried to smile, although he wasn't sure if it came across right on his face, "for everything," he finished simply, and continued his meal, hoping he had conveyed his gratitute.

Silence rested in the room, it was uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as trying to make a conversation. It's been awhile, a long while, since Nate had last socialize with people other than his parents, he needed a lot of practice to get used to things, like living with Gevanni, going to school again, and not to mention being called by another name. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't overwhelmed with all the changes that was happening in his life, but then again, he knew he'd never lead a normal life again after everything that has happened.

Frowning to himself, he put the half eaten piece of bread down, bringing the cup to his lips, tasting the warm milk on his tongue and running down his throat, soothing the dryness left behind by the toast. His eyes wandered around the kitchen, taking in the sight of mint green walls, the wooden cabinets and the matching green fridge that had already begun to become a familiar sight for him, and wondered to himself, just how long this one will last?

* * *

PENRICH HIGH SCHOOL, it was engraved in bold as they drove passed the front gates in their black sedan. Near could feel his heart racing in his chest, despite the brave front he was trying to put on. He let his fingers wander into his bag, tracing the smooth edges of his Optimus Prime, hoping to calm his nerves.

Gevanni parked the car in one of the empty lots, and got down, hurrying over to open the door for Near. His eyes glanced briefly at the boy's bag, causing Near to hold it closer, one hand still stuffed inside, touching his toy.

"It's okay, I can carry it myself," he said simply, getting down the car, waiting for his caretaker to lead the way.

They all look the same, Near thought to himself as he followed quietly behind Gevanni, looking at the smooth floors which reflect light, and the two rows of blue lockers on either side of the hallway. It's been two years since he was forced to stop schooling, but he was glad to see that some things about school was still what he remembered it to be. He saw the distinguishable air of the popular kids, smelt the testosterone coming off the jocks, and heard the soft discussions amongst the bookworms, as expected, the hierarchy existed in every school. It seemed so ordinary, so predictable, so safe, but there's no way he'd believe it to be true. In the dark corners, behind the closed doors, and in the crowd of noisy teenagers, he knew that danger was everywhere, and the only shield he had was the six foot one man beside him and the gun Gevanni always carry around his waist. It was the first time in a long time since he was put in such a vulnerable position, something his parents had tried with all their might to avoid, was it right to defy them and their final efforts? Was he doing the right thing? There's no way to tell. Sometimes, it seemed as if none of that really even matters anymore, he just wants to be able to live the life that he was suppose to, too many things had been lost while they were trying to run away, was there any meaning in living a life like that? To always be running, hiding, unable to even have decent sleep, startling awake at every little sound, to be afraid of your own shadow? The answer was obvious.

"Can you wait here for a moment?" Gevanni gestured to the rows of chairs outside the staffroom. "I'll just inform your homeroom teacher that you've arrived." Nodding, the boy sat down obediently, watching the man disappear into the room.

Peeking around, Near saw that the hallways were cleared, which was expected, since the first bell had already rung. His chest began to beat irregularly again at the thought of meeting his new classmates. Just for a little bit, the anxious little man inside him pleaded. Looking left and right, to make sure for the second time that there was no one around, he opened his bag and pulled out his Optimum Prime, so that its head peeked out of the bag, allowing the toy to observe its new surroundings.

"It's not that scary is it?" he whispered to the robot, trying to force a smile up his face.

"It will be soon enough," an unfamiliar voice suddenly came from beside him, causing him to jolt, pushing the toy deep into his bag, a feeble attempt to deny its existence and the fact that he was actually talking to an inanimate object.

"Yeah, you should do that," the voice continued.

Near felt like grimacing or gulping, but he did neither, instead, he steadied himself and slowly looked to his left, blinking at the skinny blonde teenager who had somehow magically appeared next to him.

"Don't take it out of your bag again. You shouldn't have brought something like that to school in the first place, this is high school you know, if they catch you doing what I just saw, they'd never let you live it down," the boy said, taking a bite out of his chocolate bar.

"Thank you," Near said slowly, trying to hide his reddened cheeks, as he glanced at the other through his thick bangs. "You'll keep this between us?" he piped, keeping his fingers crossed, it was just his first day, and he felt like it could be the end after making such a careless mistake.

"Sure, s'not like telling anyone will do me any good, considering I'm beneath the food chain," the boy shrugged, and continued nibbling on his chocolate, shaking his leg idly.

Cautiously, Near looked at the boy, trying to be discreet about it. After taking a clear look, he realize that the boy wasn't a stranger at all. In fact, they just met the day before, in the mall. The boy had his hair pulled back and wore a less revealing V neck t shirt today, but those leather pants and combat boots gave him away miles away.

Blue eyes gazed down at the pair of gray ones staring at him, and a look of recognition hit his face as well.

"Hey, it's-"

"Near," Gevanni's voice interrupted, causing both of them to turn their attention toward him and the tall man next to him.

"This is Mr. Penber, he's your new homeroom teacher, he'll take you to class now," Gevanni explained, obviously not taking notice of the blonde.

Near nodded, gathering his things, and standing up, taking one last sideway glance at the boy before following Mr. Penber to class.

"Good luck," he heard a soft mutter as he walked away.

* * *

OMG! Finally an update! Sorry it took me so long just to write anything. There seriously wasn't time, plus I was sort of having a minor block, but I really wanted to continue this, don't know if I did it justice, but I hope it makes you happy to read it. Sorry about the shortness, I really tried my best...Anyways, if you guys have any suggestions to make this better, please review! Thanks :)


	3. Predatory Appetite

**Predatory Appetite**

Mello's eyes trailed after the boy as he walked away with the teacher, unable to look anywhere else until the boy took a turn to the left, disappearing behind a wall. Only after the boy was finally out of sight, did Mello exhale a shaky breath that he didn't realize he was holding. He blinked a few times, his senses which he thought he had lost a few moments ago returning to him with heightened intensity, every sight, sound, scent and taste begging for his attention. What exactly just happened? He asked himself because none of it seemed real. He felt…shaken, that was the only way to put it, like something had reached into his soul and electrocuted it a few hundred times. He didn't understand what was going on, but he knew it was huge, his body and soul seem to recognize it even if his mind hadn't.

"Mello," the familiar voice of Mrs. Hogswire called, reeling the blonde back to reality. Mello turned his attention to the cotton head lady, realizing then that the man who had been with his mysterious boy was still standing at the door, looking at him. Their eyes met and Mello almost jumped, almost but years of practice pretending not to give a damn about anything allowed him to hold his ground, barely flinching. A pair of dark eyes bore into his own, they were calculative and meticulous, but not necessarily threatening. For someone who had been stared at for all sorts of reason in his lifetime, the way the man was staring at him wasn't exactly a look he got often. Strangely, he was reminded of the time the police brought him down town to interrogate him about shoplifting, for which, needless to say, he was framed of doing.

"Mello?" The blonde heard his name again, and somehow he was able to pry his eyes away from the strange man, turning to face Mrs. Hogswire. "I said the principal will see you now," she stated, probably the second or third time she has been repeating it.

"Yeah, coming," the blonde muttered, lowering his head as he got up from the seat to head into the staffroom. It wasn't as if he felt intimidated by the man, but being stared at, no matter the manner, he decided, wasn't something he was fond of. He let himself in to the staffroom, already quite accustomed to being there, leaving behind Mrs. Hogswire who was apparently making a small chitchat with Mr. Weird Stares.

"Mr. Gevanni, it's nice to finally meet you…" Mrs. Hogswire's voice drifted away as he continued to walk, entering Roger's office. So he's Gevanni, Mello thought, making a mental note.

Mello sat down in the empty seat, trying his best to ignore the person next to him and in front of him. Now this, this is reality, he sighed internally, the memory of being punched in the face coming back to him vividly, his cheek still stinging. They always go for the face, don't they?

"Mello, Light," Roger started in his tired tone. Mello had always found the old geezer's mannerism akin to that of a tortoise, slow, slow and slow. Truth be told, Mello sometimes found it hard not to yawn just from looking at him, wondering how an old guy like him actually keeps the school running, and then he realized school sucks, so it makes sense.

"Mello, Light informed me that you started a fight yesterday after school, is that true?" Roger cut right to the chase, the wrinkles around his mouth moving, obviously they've been in this type of situation too many times to bother with formalities.

Blue eyes narrowed at the brunette, who was feigning hurt, holding his left cheek, Mello held back the urge to hurl. I started a fight? Sure if that's how everyone wants to play it.

"Yeah sure, I did it, Light already told you didn't he? Why did you even bother calling me here?" the blonde rolled his eyes and got up, ready to leave.

"Mello, we're not done here," the principal pressed, frowning at the troublemaker.

"Oh we're not? I'm sorry, for a moment there, I thought what I say would actually make a difference," Mello spat bitterly, gritting his teeth.

"Mello, please don't make things difficult. Sit down, or I'll have no choice but to expel you," Roger ordered, swinging around his rod of authority.

The blonde bit his lip, the only thing keeping him from making a scene bigger than Chernobyl was the thought of actually getting expelled. He couldn't afford that, he had his future to think about. With his hands clenched in fists, he sat back down in the chair, praying to God that it'll be over soon, before he seriously bust a fuse.

Roger watched the boy sit back down, and gave a small nod. "Mello, did you start a fight with Light?" the man started again.

"Yes…" Mello drawled, feeling exasperated.

"Why?" Roger creased his brows at him.

"Why don't you ask Light?" Mello shot a look at his bully, who had been silently enjoying the show.

"Me? I was just trying to make a conversation and the next thing I knew this guy attacked me," Light answered, his eyes wide and glittering with innocence. Yeah right, cause calling someone's mom a whore is a real hot topic of discussion these days, ain't it?

"Is that true Mello?" Roger asked, looking at Mello with his glasses lowered on the tip of his nose.

Mello took a long sigh, folding his hands together as he looked away, trying to find the right words to say. "If that's true, then how do you explain the bruise on my face? I didn't start a fight on whim, they provoked me on purpose," he replied flatly, still regretting the fact that he had given into their taunts knowing full well that they expected him to react the way he did. He was just too damn predictable.

"They?" Roger repeated, his brows now creased at Light instead.

"I think he means my friends who stepped in to stop him from fracturing my skull," Light replied smoothly, not even a twitch from stating such a blatant lie.

Mello's jaw tightened, fighting the irrational side of him which was screaming at him to beat the living daylights out of the useless dirtbag. That's it, I've had enough, he said to himself as he got up from his seat, determined to leave the room before he really gets himself in trouble by doing something stupid. Not today, he thought, there's no way he'd let himself fall into the same trap.

"Wait Mello," Roger halted him at the door again.

"I've said my part, which is the truth whether you like it or not, I know you're not going to take my word for it, and I don't blame you, because I'm me right?" he said sarcastically. "Punish me all you want, I'm just asking you to spare me the dread of listening to Light talk his way out of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I think we're done here," he finished and left the room, closing the door a little louder than he should have.

Mello walked out of the staffroom, slowing his footsteps as he walked down the hallway, wondering where he was suppose to go now. Home was an option, not a very good option though. It didn't surprise him that he actually wanted to remain in school despite having a bad morning. School had always been his favorite place even with all the harsh memories it gave him, because he knew, it was the only way he could escape this hell. It was like a long dark tunnel, you might stumble on your feet and fall, you might meet some bad people or get mugged, but if you keep your eyes on the light at the end of it and keep heading in that direction, you'll eventually make it out of the dark.

Walking towards his class, he wondered if anyone would stop him from going in, as far as he knew, he wasn't expelled,_ yet_, though he doubt expulsion would actually stop him from attending classes. He was practically married to his education, and books were his children.

He stopped in front of the door, taking a peek inside through the glass. A smile crept up his lips as he spotted Matt with his severe bed-head hair sitting next to his empty seat. Lord have mercy, he sighed as he turned the knob.

"Morning."

* * *

"What were you in for this time?" the redhead started as they walked toward the cafeteria.

"Take a guess," the blonde replied lazily, not wanting to get into the details.

"Well, judging by that ugly bruise on your face and that even uglier bruise on Light's face I saw earlier, I'd say you guys fought," Matt offered, his twitchy hands toying with the console he itched to play.

"Did you even need to guess?" Mello frowned, shoving his hands in his tight leather pants.

"No, but I'd like to know what he did for you to actually hit him, though I'm pretty sure he deserves it, if not for that, then for all the crap he put you through," Matt replied, frowning as well.

The blonde kept silent for awhile, then he sighed, shaking his head. "He talked about my mom," he answered simply.

"Oh," Matt blinked in understanding, "Then it's good that you laid at least one punch on him."

"Yeah, but he got me too, not that it hurt too much. He punches like a girl," Mello joked, smirking at his only friend in school, and possibly, ever.

"I bet," the redhead smiled as well as they walked into the crowded cafeteria.

They got their food and headed to their usual table which was universally labeled as the "reject's table". Blue eyes widened as he saw who was sitting there.

"Kid," he called, putting his tray on the table. "This is our table."

The boy who seemed to be staring at his food previously looked up, his face was unusually calm.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly, "May I sit here?" The way he had asked made it clear that no one briefed him on how things worked around here. Mello felt his blood boil, looking around to see who had been messing with the new kid, finally spotting a table of kids who were giggling in their direction, they quickly turned their heads when the saw the blonde shooting death glares their way.

"Trust me, you don't want to sit here," Matt stepped in, giving the kid a one over.

The boy's gaze fell but his lips remained in a line, so it was hard to say if he was sad or offended. It didn't matter right now, Mello just wanted the boy to move before he commits social suicide, who knows how much damage has already been done just by him talking to them?

Finally, the boy got up, taking his tray with him. Mello watched as the boy looked around, obviously at a lost when the kids from the other table who had been giggling waved to him, gesturing for him to go over. The boy, Mello noticed, took everything with a stride, his face completely unreadable no matter the circumstances.

"Fresh meat eh?" Matt's voice caused the blonde to turn, suddenly aware of how hot his skin felt.

"Hey, you okay?" the redhead looked his friend warily.

"Yeah why?" Mello breathed.

"You're sweating and panting, are you sick or something?" Matt raised an eyebrow, putting down his fork.

"I'm fine, it's just a little warm," he smiled nervously, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, confused as to why he felt so flush, maybe he really was getting sick. "So what were you saying?" he quickly changed the topic.

"Nothing much, just thinking that that kid must be new, haven't seen him before," the redhead continued, munching as he spoke.

Mello wished he could turn around and look at the boy again, just to check on him, but he knew the kid didn't need that kind of negative attention. Unlike 90 percent of the students in Penrich, he wasn't a bully, he wasn't going to be cruel to someone he just met by having them mix with social outcast like himself. Hell, he barely tolerates Matt for throwing everything away just to be his friend, despite the redhead's countless protest, saying that it's his life, he can make his own choices.

"You think he's going to be alright?" Mello asked worriedly, knowing the school's dirty track record.

Matt shrugged, "It's hard to say, he's pretty," he paused for awhile, making Mello think there's some other meaning to his words. "It could go either way for him…but I think they're just playing with him cause his new today, it's probably nothing."

"Yeah, it's probably nothing," Mello repeated, trying to reassure himself as he stab his food which seem to have lost its appeal to him, praying that the boy would not fall prey to the school's predatory appetite.

* * *

Whoo, update! Lol, something longer as I've promised. I hope this chapter satisfies, please let me know what you think :) Thanks!


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